


My Collection of Dave/Karkat Chapter Ones

by Miracle_Novelist



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anger Management, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bro is a dick (as always), Chapter One:, Chapter Three:, Chapter Two:, Child Abuse, Coming of Age, Depression, Dirk and Dave are Twins, Drinking, Group Homes, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kanaya is a good host, Karkat is a delinquent, Multi, Panic Attacks, Phobias, Runawaystuck, Stuttering, Violence, Waiting Rooms, waiting room au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-10-22 05:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17657006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miracle_Novelist/pseuds/Miracle_Novelist
Summary: None of these are finished and I wouldn't call them one-shots either. I'm just really talented at starting stories and not finishing them. And no, it's not riddled with porn okay? You goddamn nasty. Anyways...enjoy?*Most of these aren't heavily edited so don't be surprised if there's some fucked up tenses.[M: Vulgar language, Violence, Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Panic Attacks, Implied Self Harm]





	1. The Fool, The Robot, And The Thief

If it was up to David Strider, katanas would not exist. They were the bane of his own existence, in fact. If the four-inch gash on his arm was anything to go by. It was his own fault, really. He should have known better than to dash to the right, which inevitably ended with Dirk’s sword slicing his upper arm. Dave didn’t blame Dirk, especially since that time, Darren was standing off to the side observing the strife. If Dirk hadn’t made that move, they would’ve still been on the roof until the sun went down.

 

To Dave’s surprise, that night was a quiet one. Even though it made him uneasy, he would’ve taken a quiet night before a hectic one.

 

* * *

 

Dirk Strider was starting to understand what he had to do. As Dave’s allegedly older brother by 27 minutes, he felt that he needed to get them out of there. Neither of them needed this. They were going to be 17 soon, which meant they were one year closer to being independent. Dirk entertained the thought of running off for the year. No Darren, no strifes, no scars.

 

Dirk entertained that thought for approximately two minutes before he shut it down. There was no way they would survive. With no money. No jobs. They were old enough to drop out of school but what good would that do? They would be broke _and_ stupid.

 

But then again...as Dirk silently patched up his brother’s arm, the hateful ball of knives and sharp objects rolled around his stomach at what Darren had put them through. They were kids. They didn’t need this.

 

* * *

 

Dave hadn’t been expecting it. He had gotten home late with a plastic bag of snacks and a milk jug. Everything was dark and normal. He put away the milk and carried the rest back to his room. However, once in the hall, he noticed Darren’s door ajar. He peaked, he couldn’t help it. His eldest brother was sitting in his desk chair, leaning back dangerously. He was watching the usual: conspiracies and breaking news, trying to draw lines between them.

 

On the screen was a mushroom cloud. Yep, same old dramatic shit.

 

When he finally made it to his room, Dave ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He felt safe behind the door. Like that lock could withstand a 240 lb man ready for a zombie apocalypse or whatever the fuck he was up to.

 

Dave visibly stiffened when his door creaked open, but it was just Dirk.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey,” Dirk whispered, shutting the door.

 

Dave caught sight of bruising and dried blood. “Dude, what happened?”

The taller blonde looked confused before he remembered his appearance. “Oh...yeah.  I made a joke. He didn’t take it lightly.”

 

Dave made a face.

 

“I need to talk to you about somethin’,” he was back to whispering. Dave urged him on with a raised eyebrow and a head turn. Dirk took that as a sign to slide next to Dave on the bed. “I was thinkin’ of uh...bookin’ it. Y’know, we only have a year left before we’re adults. I was thinkin’ of callin’ up Rebecca. Maybe we could stay with her until then huh?”

 

Dave sat speechlessly. “That’s a plan? Mooch off our distant aunt who we’ve met _maybe_ twice in our lifetime? I dunno man, that’s a lil’ far off. I know it sucks here but…” he looked down at his hands, “It’s only one more year right?”

 

Dirk sighed, dropping his head into his hands. His shades were off, which was something that happened rarely. Dave realized that he must be in a really messed up state to be this vulnerable.

 

“Dirk, my man, brother, I love you. You’re my dude. My go-to man. But this...this is basically askin’ for an ass-whoopin'. If Bro even catches a whiff of this shitty plan, we’re like...dead dude. Do...do you really want to get out that bad? Would you risk both of our fine asses to do this?”

 

The allegedly older boy lifted his head and tried rubbing the weariness out of his face. He stared at a random jar on a shelf and got lost in thought. After a few long moments of sighs and shifting, he finally responded.

 

“I guess it doesn’t really make sense. I’m just...tired. Tired of this y’know?”

 

“Preachin’ to the choir here dude. You don’t think I’m fed up with this shit? It’s fuckin’ stupid. This is just...the shitty situation we’re stuck with. I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”

 

Dirk hummed.

 

* * *

 

Darren Strider was a crazy fellow. In all honesty, he should’ve been checked into a mental ward long, long ago. Maybe it was due to the fact he fell down into a rabbit hole of conspiracy theories and schemes. There were a handful of times he freaked the fuck out about something disastrous. The most recent one was a meteor that was supposedly supposed to fuck up the earth ten different ways but didn’t. He even got biblical one year and went off the rails about some resurrection or some shit.

 

All in all, the twin boys were fucked when it came to his next phase of an all around shit show. For it was the most bizarre one of all.

 

Aliens. It was Aliens. They so-called infiltrated the government and they all had to get out of there. Fast.

 

“Pack your things, clothes, rations, whatever, just make it _light_ ,” Bro ordered from Dirk’s doorway. It sounded hectic and as soon as he appeared, Darren was gone, most likely to warn Dave as well. Dirk’s heart was racing, having startled from his door flying open suddenly. Bro’s request sat on his brain for a minute before he realized it was another spiral. Probably something about earthquakes or some dormant volcano that wasn’t really dormant.

 

In other words, Dirk rolled his eyes and disregarded the order. Which was a mistake.

 

Ten minutes later, Bro was back at his door, tilting his head silently.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“Reading?”

 

“Reading,” Bro hummed calmly. Dirk tensed, hair raising on his back and neck.

 

“Reading,” he gulped.

 

Dirk scrambled to the corner of his bed as Darren strode forward. It seemed that he pulled a dagger out from somewhere and then he pointed it at his younger sibling.

 

“Get your defiant ass up and start packing. I’m trying to keep you fuckers safe and all you do is act like lil’ ungrateful assholes. If I have to ask you again, this knife is goin’ straight through that book.”

 

Dirk closed the book, holding eye contact. If Bro wanted him to pack, then he’ll damn well pack, but it wouldn’t be for the reason Bro thought.

 

“Fine.”

 

Once Bro left, Dave replaced his spot in the middle of the room. He watched his brother shove a few pieces of clothing into a backpack.

 

“Did he tell you what’s goin’ on?”

 

“No, you?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Dirk sighed, “Maybe it’s time.”

 

Dave cocked his head and met his brother’s shaded eyes.

 

“You got any savin’s?”

 

Dave shrugged, “I got a few bucks.”

 

“Well, that’s better than nothin’.”

 

“We really doin’ this? Do you even have a plan? Like a _real_ plan?”

 

“No Dave, I don’t. I was peacefully reading my book before he barged in. My heart is still fuckin’ racin’. Fuck. We’ll...we’ll figure it all out once we get away.” With one last shove, Dirk zipped up his backpack and continued on to his desk. He searched through cables trying to decide what’s worth taking. Usually, he wouldn’t care. Usually, he would just throw in whatever, because he would inevitably return when everything blew over. But they’re leaving for good this time.

 

“Fuck dude, are you sure this is a good idea?”

 

Dirk grunted, grabbing a few essential wires and his computer, of course. He left his room only to grab his shit from the bathroom. He finally caught sight of Dave on his way back in.

 

He had a forming bruise on his cheekbone and another one coming in on his jaw. There was also a red mark around his neck.

 

“Dirk?”

 

“We’re going. We can’t live like this. _I_ can’t live like this. And you don’t need this shit either.”

 

Dave finally gave in, sighing and touching his tender face. “I’ll go make sure I have everythin’.”

 

Darren ushered them into the truck a little before midnight, wrappers crinkling underfoot. Bags dug into thighs and buckles cut into waists.

 

* * *

Karkat Vantas had been squatting with a close friend the night he first met Dave and Dirk. It wasn’t unusual for him to surf his friends’ couches, especially when they were so hospitable. Kanaya Maryam became one of his most faithful friends soon after high school started and that didn’t change when Karkat ran away from his sixth group home.

 

The dark-eyed teen was sitting in front of a gas station, smoking a cigarette he bummed off of an older man when a shitty pick-up truck came to a stop at one of the pumps. He watched as three pale-haired males hopped out, stretching. Karkat didn’t really give a shit about them, but something about the shifty looks the smaller two were giving each other held his attention. He’s been in his fair share of shady dilemmas. He was used to, trained even, in the art of fucky behavior.  

 

And these boys were behaving fucky all right.

 

On his way into the small store, the tallest one gave Karkat a sharp glance. Or, at least, it looked like it from where Karkat was sitting. He had shades, so it couldn’t be proven. Then, after snuffing out his cigarette, the small boy started listening in on what the two towheads were planning.

 

“...leave ‘em, they’re too heavy.”

 

“But what if we need ‘em?”

 

“Dave, don't cha think it would be a little weird to see two kids running around with swords? I don’t think cops would like that very much. Or middle-aged white moms for that matter.”

 

The one named Dave grunted, throwing two long objects back into the truck. Instead, he grabbed an orange backpack and threw it to the one with spiky hair. They looked towards the shop as if to check on the older guy.

 

It seemed that Dave caught sight of Karkat because he held his gaze for a moment longer. Karkat was very good at deducing these kinds of situations, and this one wasn’t very hard to comprehend. They were bolting.

 

It was at this time that Karkat decided to bolt himself. If the cops were called, he really didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of it. Instead, he grabbed his plastic bag and began his walk back to Kanaya’s. The contents of the bag were divided between Karkat’s sweet treats and Kanaya’s salty ones.

 

It was dark, but Karkat didn’t care. People around there didn’t mess with scrawny Italian kids who looked like they hadn’t slept in eight years. Usually, it was naive middle-aged women who clutched their bags while passing delinquents on the street. Karkat usually gave a head nod whenever he passed, which was almost always reciprocated.

 

Karkat stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket, bag around his wrist. He mostly looked up at the sky, listening in on distant dogs barking and cars on the highway. He was walking on a long stretch of road, a forest on his left and the street on the right. Cars passed rarely and no one was walking that night except for him.

 

Then he heard a snap from the forest and the sound of running. He turned but saw nothing. He shook his head, if those kids were trying to sneak, they were doing a piss-poor job of it. He made sure to voice his opinion.

 

“Hey!” He called. “If you’re trying to sneak, you’re doing a piss-poor job of it. Why don’t you open ten chip bags and start playing the flute while you’re at it!”

 

“Will you shut the fuck up, you’re gonna give us away.” They emerged from behind a large bush.

 

“I think you’re doing that by yourself dude,” Karkat stopped walking and looked at the two panting runaways. He looked behind him, checking for anyone watching, then sighed. As a fellow runaway, he felt it was his duty to help out.

 

Dave was wearing a bright red t-shirt that could stand out of any fucking crowd. Karkat pulled his beanie out of his pocket and tossed it to the one with angular shades. Then he dropped his bag and squeezed out of his oversized hoodie, throwing it to Dave. “There...you fuckers stand out like a sore fucking thumb. Try not to draw any more attention to yourselves.”

 

With that, Karkat took his bag and returned to his midnight walk. He was ready to dig into his chocolate and binge the rest of his series with Kanaya. However, the night was far from over.

 

“Hey!”

 

Karkat groaned, then turned dramatically, “What?”

 

“Dirk, don’t.” Dave pulled his brother back. They looked like brothers anyways.

 

“What? I’m fucking tired, and so are you.”

 

Dave gave Dirk a pleading look, but he persisted anyway. “Look...uh,” he motioned towards the lone boy.

 

“Karkat, my name’s Karkat,” he said with his normal shitty attitude.

 

“Karkat, do you happen to know someplace we could crash?”

 

“Crash? What are you, from the nineties? Jesus. Yeah, I know a few places you could _crash_ , but two fine gentlemen like yourselves probably wouldn’t have the stomach for ‘em.”

 

“Dude, you have no idea,” Dave mumbles. Karkat eyed the two, looking tired and slouching. He thought about when he first ran away, how scared and confused he was. He didn’t ask for help like these two.

 

“Fine, I have someplace, but if the owner doesn’t want you around, you have to scram like fucking rats, got it?”

 

“Capiche,” Dirk said with a blank expression.

 

“Follow me, and put on that goddamn hoodie, you can see your shirt from a mile away,” he jabbed at Dave. He complied with a harsh breath through his nose. Dirk placed the hat atop his head, and the two twins followed Karkat along his trek to Kanaya’s.  



	2. THOTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phonophobia, anger issues, dissociative disorder, depression, self-harm, anxiety. The Home of the Stucks (THOTS) was run by Aranea Serket and near perfect Mary Sue Paint, also known as Ms. Paint. The close-knit group will learn what it’s like to belong somewhere, and more importantly, live instead of just existing.
> 
> I have a youtube playlist of music I listened to as I wrote this. Suprise! It's called "THOTS Chapter 1" by Miracle Novelist if anyone's interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Anxiety, Anxiety Attack(small)]

## The Home Of The Stucks

* * *

 

“Permanence, perseverance, and persistence in spite of all obstacles, discouragements, and impossibilities: It is this, that in all things distinguishes the strong soul from the weak.”

-Thomas Carlyle

 

* * *

    Dave Strider looked up at the coffee-colored house with bright white trim apprehensively. He only hoped that this time would be different than the rest. The roof was wide and came to a point, the window panels were a deep brown, and the yard was littered with different plants and flower pots.

    “Fancy,” he spoke from the passenger seat.

    Jane Crocker nodded, looking up at the structure from behind the wheel. She had seen it many times before because this was where she, herself, grew up. She bit her lip and looked over at Dave.

    “You ready?” She tried to seem excited, but Dave knew what “faking it” looked and sounded like.

    “You’re the one shaking.”

    Jane looked down at her hands and then sighed dramatically. Dave inspected her behind his aviators, feeling a bit anxious himself. Like usual, he was fearful of his reaction to sudden loud noises. The thing about his “complex phobia” was that most of the time, the worst part was the embarrassment of freaking out rather than the freak out itself.

    Dave bit the inside of his cheek and stayed quiet. He tried to ease his mind at the prospect of the things he was worried about. Whether if Jane forgot and rang the doorbell, or there were children in the home running around and knocking shit over, or anything that could have happened to set off a panic attack, he had to keep his guard up.

    “Alright,” she shook her head. “Let’s go.” Jane popped her door open. Dave also pulled the handle to let himself out. Jane’s bright blue minivan always smelt of old juice and “new car” air freshener. It was not the best combination if Dave was completely honest.

    As Jane helped get his luggage out of the back, she was careful to close the door lightly. Dave was aware of the sun beating down on them, almost as if it were trying to hug them in its warmth. Though, the albino felt like it was smothering him. He reconsidered the hoodie he threw on that morning because although both areas were experiencing 70° weather, Houston’s cloudy sky at least blocked out most of the heat. The sky in Northville, NY however, was clear without a cloud above.

    As Dave walked up to the house, he eyed the potted flowers and various fruits and vegetables. It looked like a place Dave’s good friend, Jade, would’ve enjoyed. However, Jade was on a remote island halfway between Hawaii and Australia, probably living her best life and drinking from coconuts. Or at least that’s what Dave imagined.

    The deck was sturdy and didn’t creak or groan with every step. Dave’s usual group homes were deteriorating and ragged, so he was pleasantly surprised by the change.

    Jane didn’t waste any time with knocking.

    Voices echoed from somewhere nearby and Dave looked around, finding nothing. He could hear footsteps on the other side of the door before a figure appeared through the frosted glass. Once it opened, the two were met with what Dave could only assume was “the snobby rich kid” who dwelled in the home.

    “Hello?”

    “Is Mary around?” Jane asked the boy. He was about Dave’s age and wore a thin long-sleeve shirt that cut down too far to be from the men’s section. His hair was dyed a dark pink and his left eyebrow seemed to be permanently raised.

    “She’s...out b-back. D-do you w-want me to go get her?”

    Dave wondered if the boy had a stutter or if he was just nervous. Either way, he didn’t look threatening, and so Dave relaxed a little.

    “Oh, no. She’s expecting us,” Jane answered. “Could you just bring us to her?”

    His eyebrow seemed to rise even higher up his forehead. Nevertheless, he nodded and ushered them in. Dave felt awkward hauling his suitcase inside.

    “You can l-leave your stuff right there if you w-w-want. I think Ms. Paint is out gardening, so jus’ leave y-your shoes on,” he instructed with difficulty, turning and walking through the hallway.

    Dave looked around the entryway, noticing a few dirty shoes on a metal rack. The walls were two-toned with wood on the bottom half and a soft green towards the ceiling.

    Following the pink-haired guy, Dave looked to the right and saw a kitchen with a good amount of vegetables and foods on the counters. Aside from that, it was pretty clean.

    To the left was some kind of living room or parlor. Sitting on one of the many armchairs was a frail-looking boy with black curly hair. He was watching the three of them go past the doorway with a comically confused look.

    Jane glanced back, “Keep up Dave.”

    Dave nodded and sped up, looking away from the dude with the book in his lap.

    As he traveled through the house, he inspected the rest of it to the best of his ability. There were showy cabinets with knickknacks and oddities in them. The house seemed entirely calm and stress-free, which is what Dave was hoping. He still held his breath though.

    Finally, their fashionable guide slowed down before a set of double doors. They opened up into a room constructed of complete glass and filled to the brim with all sorts of plants. It was like something straight out of a Studio Ghibli movie. Small and colorful trinkets were moving and spinning, sticking out of this plant and that one.

    They were directed to a door which lead outside once again, and then the pink-haired boy turned around and went back into the house.

    Once they stepped out, Dave realized that it was a lake-side property. He stood admiring the glistening ripples on the surface. It had been a while since Dave had seen so much green. The trees surrounding the lake were a vibrant shamrock hue and shushed him with the slight breeze. There was a dock down by the edge with some kind of canoe pulled ashore next to it.

    Voices from behind him caught his attention.

    Turning around, Dave found Jane hugging a woman. She looked to be about fifty years old with a pink bandana keeping her blond-grey hair from falling into her face. Jane motioned him to approach, and so he did.

    “This must be Dave,” the woman said. Her eyes had the lightest indentations of crinkles and her smile was bright. Dave held his tongue, careful to avoid sarcasm. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d take too kindly to his sense of humor right off the bat. Instead of saying anything, he just held out his hand to shake.

    A girl, with the biggest weaved hat Dave had ever seen, stood from a small garden a few feet away. Her hair was as white as Dave’s and as she approached, he saw that her eyes were a lot like his too.

    “This is Rose, another child under my care.”

    “You’re albino,” Dave said bluntly.

    Rose’s lips quirked up a tiny bit, “Indeed. And from the lack of pigment in your hair,” she motioned with a pointed look, “...and the dark eyewear, I assume you are too.”

    “Indeed,” he repeated.

    Dave couldn’t help but eye Rose. He had never met another albino like him. It was a little uncanny.

    Rose, in turn, couldn’t wait to _really_ meet the new boy. As opposed to Karkat and Eridan, Dave didn’t seem to wear his heart out on his sleeve. She couldn’t even tell if he was nervous, which stumped her; intrigued her even.

    Ms. Paint put her arm around the girl, “Unfortunately, there are no sunglasses permitted on the grounds. I’ve replaced all of the fissures with low-energy light bulbs due to Rose’s light sensitivity. I’m also expecting another boy later this week with recurring migraines.”

    “What is this, some kind of home for kids with fucked up eyes?”

    Jane shot him a look, probably for the curse, but Ms. Paint just smiled and shrugged. “I guess I just have a soft spot for kids who _don’t belong_ ,” she said with air quotations.

    “So like a pity house?”

    “Dave,” Jane warned.

    Mary just smiled and waved her off. “I don’t pity anyone who comes under my care. I support them and try to lead them in the direction they want to go.”

    Dave raised one eyebrow above his shades, “That scripted?”

    The woman chuckled, “Jane dear, I believe your hesitation about Dave being here is very misplaced.”

    Jane looked between him and Mary, clearly confused. Jane didn’t seem to tolerate Dave’s humor and sarcasm.

    Ms. Paint sighed. “I have a feeling you’ll fit right in. There are a few rules, but you just arrived, and I will try to the best of my ability to ease your transition.”

    Everyone looked at Dave like he was supposed to say something so he settled for a simple, “Cool.”

    “Well,” Mary held her hands upon her hips, “Would you like to meet everyone?”

    “Everyone?”

    “There are four teens who live here, other than you.”

    Dave was pretty sure he had seen three of them, and none of them seemed very threatening, aside from Rose’s watchful eyes. “Uh sure, yeah.”

    “Alright then. Follow me,” the woman slipped her dirty gardening shoes off before going inside. Dave and Jane shared a look of discomfort in deciding to take their own shoes off. Without a word, they both decided, yes, it would be rude to keep them on. Dave touched some kind of weather vane shaped like a dog with big ears on the way into the house. It spun smoothly.

    “Eridan! Karkat! Vriska! Kitchen please!” Ms. Paint hollered once inside said room. Her loud and raspy voice alerted Dave that there was a threat near. His heart rate spiked and although Bro was nowhere around, his instincts kicked in and he tensed up. Dave checked the room for danger, as he did every time something sudden happened like that. He eyed a knife sitting on the kitchen counter, but no one was going for it, so he relaxed as best as he could. Jane looked back worriedly.

    “Mary,” Jane whispered. “Dave has phonophobia, remember. Yelling sets it off.”

    “Oh,” she looked back. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. It’s just kind of a reflex.”

    Dave let a breath out through his nose, nodding to let Jane know he was okay. He was expecting something like that to happen.

    “I’m fine,” he voiced flatly.

    Mary looked down at the ground with a creased brow, obviously feeling guilty. Dave glanced at Rose to find her inspecting him once again.

    A few moments later, footsteps could be heard descending a staircase.

    Two people entered the kitchen at the same time and Dave opted to look them over instead of focusing on the pounding against his chest. It was the guy with pink hair and a girl who looked like a member of a band. Her hair was buzzed on one side and her face was littered with piercings. She wore a torn jean vest over a decorated shirt, black skin-tight leggings, and a pair of plush spider slippers. Dave probably looked at those entirely too long, but he couldn’t understand why someone would wear them. The limp spider legs on either side of them would surely get in the way of walking.

    Dave noticed that the boy who let them in had a strong, protruding jaw and sharp brow bones. These features, on top of the large chin, looked like the perfect concoction for a rich boy’s face.

    “We’re introducing ourselves to Dave, the new occupant,” Ms. Paint said.

    The girl held out her hand eagerly, “Vriska. Nice to meet you, _Dave_.”

    His name sounded coy on her lips, obviously fake and insincere. Nonetheless, Dave shook hands with her, settling on saying nothing for the time being.

    The boy from the living room entered the kitchen just as Vriska’s arm candy introduced himself with suspicion clearly written on his face. “Name’s Eridan. Nice to meet you, Dave.”

    “Diddo,” Dave held his hand out. That seemed to be the normal thing to do around there. Eridan quickly shook and then let go, almost as if Dave would lash out at him. If anything, Dave should’ve been the defensive one right then, he was the one with the substantial past abuse under his belt.

    Ms. Paint snaked an arm around the small guy with the curly hair. Some pieces fell in front of his eyes, earning a haunted look when he glared at Dave.

    “Karkat,” his voice sounded like a phlegmy cat with nasal blockage. It was quite a specific noise that Dave had never heard before. He spoke rudely towards the blonde, with conviction and judgment clearly in his tone. “You can’t have sunglasses in here.”

    “We haven’t gone over the rules yet,” Mary said. “I didn’t want to overwhelm him on the first day.”

    It looked like he wanted to say more, but he just pursed his lips. Dave didn’t extend his hand for the third time. Just from his demeanor, this Karkat guy gave off really irascible vibes, that was clear.

    “So the deal is,” Mary announced after a moment. “Dave has phonophobia, which is the fear of loud and sudden sounds. I’ve uninstalled the doorbell, but there’s not a lot I can do here. You two sent me a list, but I’m afraid due to my degrading memory, I’ve forgotten most of it. Can you tell us what to avoid?”

    Jane cleared her throat, “Well the doorbell is a good start.” Dave felt the urge to talk for himself, but he just let her finish. “Loud movies with gunshots, slamming doors, clapping, car horns, alarm clocks, phone calls. It’s a long list.”

    “You’re scared of noises…so what are we _allowed_ to do?” Vriska asked in her patronizing manner.

    Dave sighed heavily, he really didn’t want to explain it again. “It’s _sudden_ sounds. I don’t really give a shit if you cough or laugh unexpectedly okay? I can deal with that. Just…” he motioned with his hand, “yelling and alarms, and any kind of metal-on-metal sounds are the worst. It’s just a _thing_. I can’t control it.”

    “Why?” came Rose’s voice. Dave looked over to where she was sitting on the counter, looking over the situation like an eagle perched on a tree.

    “What do you mean _why_?”

    “Why do you have this fear?

    Dave was speechless for a moment. Thoughts of Bro playing his stupid fucking mind games came into mind. He almost said “Years and years of intense stress and traumatic experiences” but that would’ve risen too many questions, and Dave presumed that Rose would _definitely_ ask those questions, and he wasn’t ready for that.

    “I was in an accident when I was smaller, really fucked me up,” he shot a look at Jane, but she didn’t react.

    “Sounds like you c-came to the right place, w-we’re all kind of twisted here,” Eridan smiled without his eyes. Dave didn’t know what to make of that.

    “Well, I think it’s time Dave was shown to his room. Karkat,” Ms. Paint motioned towards the hallway. The short boy sighed and rolled his eyes behind his curly bangs.

    “C’mon then, I guess I was unknowingly chosen to be your escort,” Karkat sent an exhausted look back at Ms. Paint. In return, she smiled sweetly and motioned for them to go.

    Dave looked back at Jane worriedly behind his shades, “Don’t go anywhere?”

    “Of course, I’ll be here when you come back.”

    “Kay,” the boy nodded and continued into the hall to follow his involuntary guide.


	3. Should've

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "meeting while waiting for hours on end in the emergency room au"

Dave was in the middle of procrastinating his writing assignment. His phone began to ring just as he was pouring his Ramon into a bowl for consumption. Only the finest for this college student.

“Hey Egbutt, what’s up?”

On speakerphone, John just sounded like he butt dialed his friend. Dave smiled to himself thinking about John’s silly nature.

“Hello?”

“Dave,” his voice broke. The blonde gave his wall a questioning glance before replying.

“Everything alright?” He asked slowly.

“I-I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Dave’s mind instantly went to the worst. Did someone die? Was John about to jump off a building? Was he being mugged? Deep in his thoughts, he almost didn’t catch John’s next words.

“It’s Terezi.”

“What about her? What’s going on?”

“She came to my party and...the ambulance just left.” His hands went cold, lungs behaving like he just stepped into a freezing lake. “She got alcohol poisoning. She was shivering and unresponsive and she-” There was yelling on the other end. Dave picked up his phone from the counter, his hands suddenly shaking.

“John,” he didn’t have any questions to ask him. He didn’t know what to do. “What-”

“Okay! Okay. We’ll leave. Dave, hey. We’re going to head to the hospital. You should come too.”

“Joh-”  
  
“Okaybyeseeyouthere.”

He hung up.

Dave was left in his quiet apartment, a bowl of steaming-hot pasta in front of him, with the news that one of his best friends was on her way to the hospital. For a good two minutes, he stood in the same position, still holding his phone. His mind raced with possibilities. Once the initial shock wore off a little, his body moved on its own accord. Within minutes, he was dressed and on his way out of the door, food forgotten on the counter.


End file.
